Dorian
by Gothic-Romantic99
Summary: Dorian sold his soul for eternal life and beauty, and to live for pleasure. He had no qualms about murdering to advance his own selfish purposes. Marco knew he was no different.


Disclaimer: I do not own The Lost Boys or The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Author's Notes: This is not a crossover, but there are heavy references to _The Picture of Dorian Gray._ This story also contains spoilers for that book, so I recommend you not read this if you haven't read the book and want to. I also recommend reading _The Picture of Dorian Gray_, because it's awesome! This is a tribute to my favorite lost boy and to Oscar Wilde's amazing novel.

This story is also somewhat inspired by the episode "Rebecca" from _So Weird_. At least by the fact that the character sees his old friend who has yet to age.

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><p>There was no possible way the teenager standing less than twenty feet from him was the same boy from his past. Twenty years had passed since Ronnie left Santa Carla for a better future. He had a decent job at a law firm, been through a marriage, a divorce, and was about to enter his second marriage with the second kid from the select woman on the way. A better opportunity opened up for Ronnie in the city he swore he would never return to. It held so many painful memories including the moment he had to say goodbye to his terminally ill best friend.<p>

The day he left he promised Marco that he would send money to fly him out to Florida. Two years after the move Marco's letters stopped arriving and the one sent to him were returned to Ronnie's address. The man called up the number only to find out that an old couple now occupied the residence that was once in Marco's name. He wondered if Marco had finally died, but never came across an obituary, or a funeral invitation. Another year passed without any word of the blonde and Ronnie soon forgot about him. Over the years the memory of one he used to be so close with resurfaced in his mind, but the thoughts never lingered.

Ronnie had been in Santa Carla a fortnight when he decided to visit the Boardwalk. Ronnie remembered the nights he and Marco spent out on the beach, strolling through the many attractions that were enjoyed by both locals and tourists alike. They would complain of how in the summer those from out of town invaded their land making traffic a nuisance. Through it all, with their beers, smokes, and several loose women who came on vacation to play, they found the summers bearable.

He never forgot Marco's appearance. The numerous photographs at his parent's house were chiseled in his mind. The unique features complete with his naturally blonde curls were unmistakable. The boy standing just a ways down in the company of three much older teens was an exact replica of his memory. Were he to drive the five miles to visit his mother that very instant and return with the photo in his grip there was no doubt the two faces would match.

Ronnie watched as Marco brought his fingers to his mouth when he laughed, the very trait he remembered from their days. Marco was a shy kid and very insecure about his smile. The many years he was forced to wear braces along with the taunts of other children began that habit. Even after the metal was removed he retained the manner. There was no way for it to be possible and yet there stood Marco, having not aged in two decades.

The idea came to the mortal that perhaps the boy standing behind the rail was Marco's son. Even with the strong the possibility of that being the truth he wanted to ask him. Ronnie felt somewhat ashamed to approach a total stranger, possibly a minor, and question him about his father.

Ronnie took a deep breath and gathered his courage before slowly starting for the boy. Marco glanced around looking for a potential meal when a particular form caught his eyes. He noticed a dark-haired man in his early forties coming his way. Marco nodded to Paul then shifted his eyes to the approaching human. He then exchanged glances with David who was more than interested in what the pathetic mortal could possibly want.

Ronnie noticed that Marco caught his approach. It gave him some relief to know that not having to ask for his attention would lessen some of the awkwardness. He chanted some possible lines in how to start the question. Each one tightened his stomach. Even if this was a relative of Marco it would be weird for him to come out of nowhere and start speaking. What if Marco was still angry at him for whatever reason he ceased communication twenty years ago? What if Marco had instructed his children to never speak to the man who resembled the one in the pictures? And what if…Marco was dead?

The streaming thoughts were halted when Ronnie found himself looking into Marco's eyes. Those were in fact the same eyes he remembered as a teenager. They had not aged in twenty years, but there was something different in their appearance: they were colder, more distant, not full of the life that Marco once had. Even for a boy who was guaranteed to spend at least three months out of the year in a hospital bed, Marco was not one to give into fatigue or ailments. He would push the illness aside and live his life as a normal child despite the warnings from his family, doctors, and even Ronnie himself.

Marco stared at the man for a few minutes. The middle-aged human simply gaped at the vampire. He smirked and was about to ask the man if he had a staring problem or if he was merely stupid. Just as Marco was to open his mouth a shadow across a light momentarily changed the features on the man's face. Marco's eyes widened as the memory clicked.

"Ronnie Hensley?" Marco asked silently. That was Marco's voice. The very same pitch Marco's voice contained when surprised.

Ronnie blinked. The teenager knew his name. He gave a half smile. Was this child indeed Marco's son?

Paul glanced over at his younger brother. "You know this man, Marco?"

Ronnie stepped back startled. The older blonde had just called the boy by his old friend's name. His breath quickened, but there was still a chance that the child had been named after his father. There was no need for him to jump to conclusions just yet.

"Marco," Ronnie said in a low voice.

Marco glanced around knowing how difficult it must have been for someone to see his best friend of twenty years ago in the body of an eighteen-year-old.

Marco's assumptions were right as Ronnie quivered upon realizing by the look in Marco's eyes that this was indeed the same boy from his past. He suddenly felt like James Vane who, after years of seeking revenge on the one who promised to marry and forever love his sister only to break her heart, who in grief ended her own life, stumbled upon the one responsible. And as with Vane, there was no way this guy had the years to his features that allowed him to be the person he sought.

Ronnie surveyed Marco over, taking in his every feature, a process that made Paul shiver. David merely glared while Dwayne watched on with amusement. Marco wanted to smile for seeing the man who was his best friend after all these years. However he knew that this was not the chance for happiness. Ronnie was not supposed to see him, not his current form, not ever for the rest of his life. Unlike Dorian, Marco had no explanation to give. Sure he could lie that he was Marco's child and that his father had died a long time ago, but did not want to get caught up in the complications that came with the possibility of Ronnie wanting to rekindle a friendship. There was no way Marco could tell him the truth. Unfortunately too much information had already been given and there was only one solution.

"How? Are-it's-you can't-?" Ronnie stammered while trying to make sense of everything before him.

Marco nodded to the others before stepping forward. He smiled sweetly up at Ronnie then gestured for his friend to follow him out to the abandoned dunes beyond the boardwalk. Wanting closure Ronnie followed without question. Marco waited until the two were away from all civilians.

"Marco, is that really you?" Ronnie asked sensing that they were alone.

Marco replied with a sigh. He turned to face the man with a countenance of sorrow upon his face. It was an expression that Marco had forsaken for almost two decades.

"What happened to you?" Ronnie asked, unable to comprehend the absurdities of reality.

"This is hard to explain," Marco said solemnly. "I don't expect you to understand."

"You look exactly the same," Ronnie stated. "How is that possible?"

Marco found it difficult to keep eye contact with his old friend. Usually he wanted to look his prey in the eyes before ripping them apart. He wanted to feel their fear. However this time it was different.

"You told me you were never come back to Santa Carla," Marco growled. His expression became angry. "You said you would never come back here."

"Marco, I'm sorry," Ronnie said stepping forward. He went to touch the boy only to be halted by Marco's glower.

Marco clenched his fists. "Don't come any closer," he demanded. The sweet aroma of Ronnie's blood was begging him to taste its delicious flow. He tore his eyes from the human.

Ronnie understood. How could he expect forgiveness for leaving his sick friend for his own selfish reasons?

"Didn't you get it?" Marco asked trying to force back a sob. "When I didn't return your letters? When I left my old life behind me so we'd never meet again?" His tearstained eyes met with Ronnie. "I didn't want you to get hurt."

Ronnie's heart skipped. "I—I don't under—"

"I know you don't," Marco said softly. "You never could. You pathetic creature, you never…" Marco felt the hunger pangs growing in intensity. He bit his finger to try and control them. He refused to look Ronnie in the eyes. "I didn't want you to meet the fate of so many nameless victims. Don't you understand? I didn't want you to die." His transformed eyes met with Ronnie's. The scream got tangled in the man's throat. "But you know too much, I can't betray my pack," Marco said sadly.

He grasped Ronnie's arm and made the kill quick. Ronnie's lifeless form fell in the sand. Tears poured from Marco's eyes as he gulped down the substance that gave him life. That action that disgusted him every night allowed him another night of eternal life and beauty.

As he lay dying in the hospital bed the last year of his mortal life Marco saw his beauty fading. He knew he would never again experience pleasures. He had not the heart to mention to Ronnie that he would be dead before he gathered enough money to fly him out to Florida. And if he did, there was no way any doctor would clear Marco for flying. What would have been the point if he were just to be a decaying corpse, a burden on the friend he loved so dearly?

Max's sympathy was both a burden and a curse. He gave the boy the chance to live for a price. At the time Marco did not realize the extent of the cause. He wondered if he would have taken the gift if he knew that twenty years later he would murder his longtime friend. He had been selfish and had to live the rest of his life with the curse of his decision.

Dorian sold his soul for eternal life and beauty, and to live for pleasure. He had no qualms about murdering to advance his own selfish purposes. Marco knew he was no different. He knew that the day he finally did die he would without dignity, just like Dorian Gray. What more, he knew it would serve him right.

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><p>There you have it. I hope you enjoyed. Please let me know what you think. Have a lovely day!<p> 


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